Yesterday we were taking a neighborhood walk, and she poked my knee to tell me there was something amiss. I told her she was being silly, and she poked me again and then pointed with her face (because I'm a dunce). I looked under the bush she was pointing at, and thought, "Gosh, that's a funny color for a rabbit."

The 'rabbit' bobbled out onto the neighbor's lawn, and was actually a puppy, probably about nine weeks old. I told Elsie to 'down' on the sidewalk, told her to stay, and enticed the little puppy over to me. He was super friendly, and honestly looked relived to see someone. I picked him up, and then called Elsie over to me.

THEN I realized I hadn't even thought about whether she would break the stay or not, because I knew she wouldn't. I went to the door of the house associated with the lawn where the puppy was and before I knocked I heard the following conversation:

Him: The puppy isn't in the backyard.
Her: Yes he is.
Him: I'm telling you I checked, and he's not.
Her: WhaAAAAT?

I knocked, and she yanked the door open said, "WHA--that's my puppy!" Then she looked at Elsie and said, "... That's not mine." I laughed and gave her the puppy, and we went on our way. She seemed really grateful to get him back; he'd slipped under a loose board in the back where they didn't think he could fit.

Anyway, I was super impressed with how calmly Elsie handled everything, and how insistent she was that I see what she was trying to point out without being a pest about it. I really love her.

Yesterday we were taking a neighborhood walk, and she poked my knee to tell me there was something amiss. I told her she was being silly, and she poked me again and then pointed with her face (because I'm a dunce). I looked under the bush she was pointing at, and thought, "Gosh, that's a funny color for a rabbit."

The 'rabbit' bobbled out onto the neighbor's lawn, and was actually a puppy, probably about nine weeks old. I told Elsie to 'down' on the sidewalk, told her to stay, and enticed the little puppy over to me. He was super friendly, and honestly looked relived to see someone. I picked him up, and then called Elsie over to me.

THEN I realized I hadn't even thought about whether she would break the stay or not, because I knew she wouldn't. I went to the door of the house associated with the lawn where the puppy was and before I knocked I heard the following conversation:

Him: The puppy isn't in the backyard.
Her: Yes he is.
Him: I'm telling you I checked, and he's not.
Her: WhaAAAAT?

I knocked, and she yanked the door open said, "WHA--that's my puppy!" Then she looked at Elsie and said, "... That's not mine." I laughed and gave her the puppy, and we went on our way. She seemed really grateful to get him back; he'd slipped under a loose board in the back where they didn't think he could fit.

Anyway, I was super impressed with how calmly Elsie handled everything, and how insistent she was that I see what she was trying to point out without being a pest about it. I really love her.

Abrams was being an idiot and playing with the empty water dish when he should not have been. And he took the empty water dish into the bathroom, which he should not have done. Then, being an idiot, he knocked the full size mirror I have leaning against the wall down upon himself, because he is an idiot.

The mirror is cheap and didn't break. But it scared Abrams half to death and my bathroom and my dog now reek of anal glands.

AAAAAAHHHHHHHH! Somehow in all this mess, Blossom has decided she can **** inside pretty much whenever. Unless we're shut in my bedroom, then she'll get me up. But everywhere else is fair game.

She just pooped twice inside in a matter of minutes while I had my back turned. And of course it's like horse poop because she's eating kibble. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!! And I lost my temper and yelled, "Blossom, WHAT THE ****?!" when I saw the SECOND poop, mostly because I turned around and not only was there **** but Keeva was EATING it. AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!! *rage flail*

The kibble is going down fine but is obviously messing with her "schedule." And the poop is like unbearable compared to raw poops (especially when I'm picking up INSIDE). I just... don't know what else to do. I figure she needs complete nutrition if possible right now so doggy pellets it is. I didn't expect this complication. And it seems like when she needs to poop, it hits her like, OMG I HAVE TO DO THIS RIGHT NOW, which is weird (even though the poop is fairly firm). And she just... goes.

Now I get to keep 50 lbs of insanity tethered to me all the time. Well 42 lbs, I guess that's one upside. -_- I'm just so frustrated. I didn't foresee this side effect and as shallow/selfish as it seems, it is just really gross and upsetting to be constantly picking up poop inside from an adult, formerly housebroken dog.

ETA: And what is this business with the pooping once and then pooping again 5 minutes later?! HOW DOES THAT MAKE SENSE. ONE POOP, BLOSSOM. That's all I ask.

Oh, so you spoke to her foster coordinator and asked, and they told you they haven't made any effort?

Just because there does not seem to be anything being done or efforts put forth to people on the outside, does not mean things aren't being done behind the scenes, on the executive half.

The group that I was fostering for had a yahoo groups network that they used to talk to everyone at once and send things out- After asking her about it, I never saw an email go out about the possibility of someone taking my foster in- this was how they always asked in the past. So I waited a week and asked her if she'd made any progress. She said she hadn't been able to talk to anyone about it yet. >.< Never did see anything go out and I didn't ask again.

Of course this turned into nothing and he was never placed in another foster home, he stayed with me being crated a rotated for a few more months on top of the 6 months he had already been there and ended up pts through the rescue. I knew it would be hard to find him another foster home without dogs or with minimal dogs and I didn't have a timeline, but an effort would have been nice, at least. :/

Kim is both a two-pooper and a walking pooper. And I swear she plots her poop locations to be as far as poosible from the nearest trashcan so I have to carry the baggie forever. Unless we pass a police car...then she simply has to poop next to the police car.